Lips of an Angel
by claws2501
Summary: Obi-Wan is falling apart, his master is gone, yet he is supposed to just step up and now live as if it doesn't effect him: sleeping in his former master's bedroom and going about the chores his master would have done. The council even gave him the honour of fielding the condolence calls. Then someone calls him and begins the healing process. Obitine. Song fic.


**Hey look guys its a one shot obitine song ****fic. It was accidentally written while doing a chemistry project so bear with the jumbled weirdness that is the creation. Sometimes however I think its best to leave it like that, this is one of those times. I fear too much editing will destroy the rawness. But please correct me if I'm wrong. **

**The time is a few days to a week after Qui-Gon's death, they have returned to the temple, and yet something is strangely missing: the badass that is Knight Kenobi's former master. Fortunately Satine decides to call (lets be honest the Jedi Council would have released his death to the media to ensure people could pay their respects, or rather someone on Naboo was bound to). I cannot believe that there is no real a canon for a conversation like this to have taken place, either on the holotable or face to face. Either way what do you think?**

**The song is Lips of an Angel by Hinder, I did check youtube, couldn't see any songvid things on there of this song so I haven't copied! This is my second songfic the first was obidala (broken arrow). **

**Thanks to catspats31 of the eliminators who told me inserting song lyrics that I did not write was against the rules. Since then I have changed this with a link to the official YouTube video and which verse best suits the music or hopefully you can read without the lyrics who knows? Please as always send reviews :) **

** Claws2501**

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><p>He had spent the time busy, lost in the work: whatever work, he could do. He had attended a class on how to be a knight, on how to be an instructor, signed up to more of the latter. It hadn't been lost on him that he was the youngest in both classes, the only one that was an orphan. His master was gone, gone to the Force, killed by that zabarack two days ago. Force had it only been two days? For the umpteenth time he rubbed his sweat covered hands on his face before glancing at the clock. More work to do, because it was better than sitting, because he had a job to do.<p>

"Anakin" Obi-Wan called from the living area, trying to sense exactly where the boy was within the apartment. This had not been the padawan he had chosen, Force hadn't even thought about having one. Only last week he and Garen Mulan had made the solemn promise not to take a pupil until the ripe old age of 45- once they had had their fair share of adventures. He was now a knight, and Garen was still a padawan, still being carefully guided. He smiled slightly, they had all tried to help but no one had really understood the pain, except possibly Bant: his best friend. He faltered slightly thinking of his master and Tahl. Shouldn't he be happy that they were together finally after those long years of waiting? Selfishness was such an unjedilike trait. So why did it feel so right now?

"Here Obi-Wan" He had called, and the young knight sighed in relief walking to his room. No Anakin's room now, and he remembered with horror that he was supposed to now sleep in his master's bed, but it was his bed now. He felt his hand rub his face in a vaguely abstract manner, not fully remembering the command that had placed his arm in that position. The boy was propped up in the quarters, squashing himself between the desk that held books for a test that he no longer had to pass: a mere padawan test, and blueprints for some project that now seemed so whimsical to Obi-Wan now. Even the little fighters that buzzed overhead seemed meaningless. Slowly and cautiously he approached the desk, crouching down he came kneel in front of the boy, sensing his coldness, the temperature control that was set on mild was so different to the scorching of the twin suns of tattoinne. He sighed.

"Oh Anakin" he murmured, once again running over the conversation- the last conversation he had had with his master, the one where he spoke not of him but Anakin, and the need to train the boy. Was he jealous? Staring at the boy now he could feel himself fighting the anger, that Qui-Gon had so casually swept aside the padawanship that had spanned over a decade- that he had fought so hard for again and again- for the sake of a mere slave boy. Yet he could not blame the boy, he was the only thing he had left of his master, this boy was his master's last mission and damn the Force and the god's this was the one mission he would not fail in. Something clicked in his head. The stone, the one his master had given him for his 13th birthday, the warmth that was felt from it as he held it in his hand. It sang of the living force that his master so revered, was so strong it. "Here" he said brusquely, thrusting the rock as if it had become suddenly scorching, into his younger friend's- no padawan's- hand. He tried to smile, but it hurt too much, and suddenly he had a thought. What if he never smiles again?

"Master?" Anakin said quietly, the stone held in his hand in a fashion that showed it had not taken him a near death experience to figure out how the Force bent around the stone. He had called him master, the whole title confused him, he was not the one to lead this boy it was Qui-Gon's job. He was the one that was strong, not Obi-Wan. _Oafy-Wan _the old insult sprung at once to mind with a fresh wave of hurt, if only he hadn't fallen, if only…

"Bed time" he said as gently as he could. Force as that his voice: so unsteady, so rough. The exertion he placed on himself during the day and the lack of sleep was clearly brewing him into something horrid, and for a second he almost felt sorry for Anakin to be on the receiving end of so much grief. Almost. Of course Anakin had his own grief, but all his family was still alive. Still safe and likely to remain that way. He beat the jealous thoughts away. He had no right to think ill of a 10 year old without his mum.

After helping Anakin to bed he sat back down in his living area, it had a peculiar smell about the place, and for a second Obi-Wan contemplated opening the cupboard door to where he knew he would find a half eaten pie: taken hastily before the council summons and never finished. Master had always complained about how he was never full and how he was so untidy. His thought made him stop dead, understanding that he now put everything his master did into the past tense did nothing to help his grief. His master- former master, for he was a knight now- would never complain of anything Obi-Wan did again.

In the depths of the night, surrounded by the peacefulness of the sleeping Jedi, the sound of Anakin snoring in his room, Obi-Wan felt more restless than ever. Another night of fitful sleeping, until he would rise long before dawn biting back his howls to the moon. His grief had turned him into an animal, just going through the motions of survival. Nothing more and impossible for him to do less. Carefully he tried to regain his inner calm, to imagine the most relaxing image he could and train every inch of his fibre onto that image until it almost became reality. Not jedilike, very very unjedilike. But what else was he supposed to do?

A comm link buzzed, ringing out in the still night. Obi-Wan's breath quickened in agitation, and he felt the force to destroy the thrice accursed device against the wall, out the window, anywhere but by him. His mind flashed back to the passing dignitaries that had graced his presence through the holonet sending their condolences. The Jedi had not left him alone in his grief- which at the start he had been grateful off- but another false politician with false sorrows for his genuine Master and the young knight felt that his heart might explode. It took every inch of his diplomatic and jedi training to school himself enough to answer the hologram.

"Knight" there was no thrill in the title, not when it was bestowed nor now, in fact after repeating it so many times the only thing Obi-Wan was grateful for was that it was a lot shorter than 'padawan'. "Kenobi" he said quietly unwilling to wake Anakin up, whom he had spared from all except the most genuine of the condolences from the past two days.

"Obi" the voice came before the hologram. His beloved: Satine Kyrze, Duchess of Mandalore.

watch?v=RiSfTyrvJlg

"Duchess" he answers formally, eyes swivelling- in habit of old times gone- left and right, waiting for his master to catch them. He had once before, the last time they had spoken, the time they had sworn to not speak outside of protocol again, and now after all that time of having the right words to say to anyone, the courage to step in front of two warring factions and be able to calm them down. Even after their long nights of conversations. Words now failed him. All he could do was stare into those eyes, eyes that he knew were green, but made blue by the lack of colour's in the holonet. The hair, that should be so blonde, now just a lighter shade of blue. In Obi-Wan's own mind he slowly built up a picture from the last time he had seen her on the holo tv and from the times he had seen her in passing at the senate on one or other of his former master's forays. They stared at each other, drinking in the features that they new so well, carefully mapping the changes that had occurred: Satine's hair being longer- strapped up in a style more befitting of a regal Duchess or the padawan braid and hint of stubble showing displaying Obi-Wan's new status as knight.

"Knight Kenobi" she replied more formally, unconsciously shifting into a more formal posture. The change it brought to the conversation was alarming. Both looked left and right again, Obi-Wan checking for movement from his charge. They turned back to each other, the young knight even managed a weak smile.

The change was instant, Satine slowly collapsed, releasing the grief that she had pent up. Once again Obi-Wan was reminded of the close bond she had formed with Qui-Gon in the absence of a father, of how he had guided both her and him during one of the most impressionable times of his life, of how he quietly gave them enough space to begin to make 'mistakes' together but enough presence to ensure it never developed beyond infatuation. He left the goodbye to be private between them.

"Sissy" Obi-Wan hears himself murmuring, he takes time to understand that this time his thoughts broker no anger, no scoffing internally of how they were more obliged to demonstrate any sort of grief. At the sound of the old name he used for her, whispered for fear of waking Anakin up. Only today he had given the mantra to him about attachments being forbidden, and although Anakin had been talking about his attachment of his mother it wouldn't do to talk to Satine. The very nature of their friendship forbidden eons ago by the Jedi.

"Obi" She repeats, reaching out as if to stroke his face. The way she used to when he was wounded- a scary frequent event when he was on Mandalore those long years ago. "Obi, I'm so sorry". It was heartfelt, but loud. Once again the conversation relapses into silence as they both listen for noises. Obi-Wan does: a brief noise from Anakin's room. His old room. He repeats several times to himself while retreating to check on the boy.

Obi-Wan peaks round the corner, watching the rise and fall of the 9 year old carefully checking for a change in rhythm as the boy slumbered. He was once again drawn into the comfort of the room, the familiar feeling of secrets and the history of it. The way he knew all the corners and crannies and places to hide and store things against his master's wishes. He sighed again, turning around and heading back to Satine the hologram. Wishing with all his heart that at that point she wasn't some blue transparent almost ghostly image but a real person, that was standing and waiting for him. She waits for him, watching like you would a caged animal. He sits down heavily in front of the holonet receiving, wondering after all the time that had passed what he could possibly say to her. He looks at her pleading the conversation to turn away from whatever dark thoughts he was nursing. Slowly and surely she starts by recounting the tales they shared during so much destruction and darkness. How they had made a little corner of light, of a family that found each other and bonded through the war. He hears himself speaking, filling in gaps or recounting missions, odd trivial bits like the way his master had given him leash during a mission to Rutan. Of clashes, force it felt good to talk about his master without earning disapproving looks or glazed eyes that slid past him to stare off somewhere until he had finished.

Satine laughed quietly and he found himself laughing. Both looked at each other as Obi-Wan felt the hole that had been left shrink a little, suddenly he understood his Master's attachment to Tahl. He thought he already understood it, replicated it with Siri, and before that with Cersasi. But both felt whimsical, childlike and borne in the heat of battle rather than in the calmness and grief of the aftermath. They had fooled even themselves, but now? Now Obi-Wan wasn't so sure.

"Knight Kenobi" she says simply, but the emotion poured into it, suddenly it was as if he could hear his name and title without the grief that his master wouldn't see it, wasn't there for the cutting of the braid. He gulped in a breath in shock. She was radiating pride, the grief was underlying it, but she had pushed it aside to attempt to make the occasion special. He drank in the moment, replaying the moment in his memory as her mouth shaped those words, the way those eyes shone. "How was it?" she asked noticing his reaction, reading him as she always had been able to do from the moment he had arrived on Mandalore as a temperamental Padawan. He shakes his head, looking down trying to hold back tears. Tears that he silently swore to never show in front of Anakin- he had to be strong for him. To not get in the way of the boy's own grief.

Satine waits for him to respond, the silence speaking just like Qui-Gon's own silence did. Even after his death Obi-Wan thought wryly his silence was heard for the Force had been silent and steady, waiting to receive the grief that Obi-Wan needed to let out. Waiting to be spoken to, just like his friend was doing now. He rubs his hands over his face, noting that it had been a while since had done that since he had started talking. Then, bit by bit, moment by moment he recounts the way that Anakin's presence had overshadowed the whole thing, how there hadn't been any trials, no ring of lightsabers. Instead of being conducted in the halls of knighthood it was a simple palace room in theed- hasty before the burning of his master. He couldn't meet Satine's eyes when she murmured her sympathies, that he had already had his trials. Obi-Wan bowed his head in agreement of some of her points.

A clock chimes, and he knows that they are both out of time, he is dogged tired now, something that mere tasks wouldn't go through but he has slowly over the course of the conversation cried himself out. They both know it wouldn't do for him to fall asleep over the holotable, that he should sleep in his masters room. But as they look at each other they don't want to hang up either. Memories of their old games surface, of arguments of who should hang up first. They sigh together, emotions rising that neither had felt since they had seen each other face to face before.

"I can't call tomorrow but…" she whispers in means of a goodbye, yet still her hand hovers in midair, as if torn between hitting the end call button and reaching out towards her friend that right now was in so much pain. Obi-Wan nods, looking at the date once again frowning slightly as he sees the date: tomorrow was his master's birthday. The day in which Obi-Wan vaguely attempted to do something good within the living force, especially if it was noticeably contradicting what the unifying force would tell him not to do, and extra gold stars… or rather birthday points… if it contradicted the council. He chuckled remembering how they had put down those rules. Satine is looking at him like he has lost his mind. He quickly explains.

Those wonderful peals of laughter, made scratchy by the poor speakers on the outdated holotable, and why hadn't they bothered to ask for a new one like every other room in the temple? Because Qui-Gon didn't want to encourage him- them. His memory could fill in the failings that his speakers missed. Slowly he could feel his resolve being put back together. The work that the Jedi did was just and hibernation from it would not just insult his new status of knight, but also insult Qui-Gon's memory and his friendship with this wonderful woman.

He looks into her eyes, so much like his master's… he feels his own widen at the realisation, before looking back at the date and back at Satine. Her eyes haven't left his, tracing his every movement with not only concern but fear. Why would she fear his thought processes unless… He slams down on the thought before he can speak it. But still watches her. Speaking it aloud would make it more real, and possibly more painful. She nods twice: once for confirmation- because she can read him so well, and one of thanks to not repeat it aloud. Obi-Wan smiles slightly. Here was proof before him that you could be an exemplary Jedi and hold attachments to someone other than another Jedi. He smiled slightly, Tahl would always be the one for his master, The Force that had danced around them had said as much but if there was one before…

Suddenly he feels the urge to tell her everything, from the way he snored in his sleep to the way he could easily take up the whole sofa, just so that Obi-Wan would have to fight him for a space. The way he had laughed openly at Obi-Wan when he had fallen backwards into that well, and the way he fought and hummed in the Living Force. Everything he knew about him. Satine shook her head slightly. Obi-Wan understood. There would be another time for such tales, but now, now it was enough to just dwell in each other's grief, knowing that neither was truly alone in the universe. Shared grief… A sudden bitterness and jealousy rose in Obi-Wan, why couldn't he grief in his own way like Satine was allowed to. Instead he would be forced to inhabit and take the place of his mater as if he had never even been there. Yet he should not feel jealousy, he should not even feel resentment.

His dreams would be the only thing to keep him company tonight and he prayed to The Force to return the once accursed dreams of what if's- largely surrounding Satine- back to him to keep him safe during the night.

"Almnec" Satine whispers, hearing something that her own holotable didn't pick up and Obi-Wan's heart clenched in anticipation. Almnec had been against the Jedi involved in the way in the first place, and had had the idea that he would be the one to win Satine's heart having been promised as much from the previous Duke of Mandalore. It would be dangerous for both of them to be caught- at this age- talking to each other with no just cause. It had been Qui-Gon that had prevented the coupling taking place, pleading with the Duchess at the time to see reason. Now it made complete sense why he had been so angry about it, so determined that he would jeopardise his own padawan's safety- something that Obi-Wan had been more than happy with at the time- and the whole mission. The gamble had paid off.

But still, Almnec was prime minister: well loved and supposedly dedicated to his people. Few would see past the new and improved political stance he took. Obi-Wan however still nursed an inherent distrust for the man, so many years his and Satine's senior. He didn't want her in trouble for any reason. He turned back to Satine, nodding once and standing up. In his full Knight Robe that he had to wear for the next week- a badge of honour to other knights but a show of shame to himself. He bowed gracefully.

"Duchess thank you for your time" Satine nodded, also standing up, and bowing.

"Knight Kenobi" she responds, allowing her rich mandalorian accent to accentuate the tones and drawing them out, keeping him in her holotable for a moment longer before ending the call. Obi-Wan doesn't miss almnec appearing in the holotable before it goes blank. He sighs before getting on with the laborious task of slicing the call out of the Jedi record books.

That night he slept peacefully thinking of a family found in a time of war.

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><p><strong>Please R&amp;R and don't forget to check out my other obitine fic love at a time of war. May the Force be with you. <strong>

**Claws2501**


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